Waking Up in Vegas
by okmeamithinknow
Summary: Shut up and put your money where your mouth is.... The famous last words of one 21 year old genius that lead him on a whirlwind night that would change his life forever.
1. Prologue: Waking Up in Vegas

Disclaimer: **Insert depressing, yet unfortunately necessary reminder that I don't own Jimmy Neutron here. **

A.N. So while working on Undying Hatred I was listening to the radio, and the Katy Perry song 'Waking Up In Vegas' came on. This story kind of blossomed from it. Originally it was intended to be a one shot, but looks to be a short multiple shot. Enjoy!

* * *

"Unnn," the blonde groaned, rolling over in bed.

Unaware of her proximity to the edge, she slipped from underneath the warm generic hotel sheets to tumble head over heels to the ground. The thin threadbare carpet of the hotel room floor that greeted her upon landing did nothing to help her raging headache. It took too much effort to climb back into the rented bed, she decided after a few head-throbbing minutes debate. She reached up with a groggy hand to pull the flimsy sheet from the queen-sized bed, hoping to cover her scantily clad lithe frame with something that could possibly keep her warm and at least conceal anything that might be considered risqué, in case her newly engaged best friend made an unannounced visit while she slept off her very first hangover. Tugging with all her one-handed might, she was unsuccessful in loosening the linen from underneath the mattress, or so she thought. Squinting one eye open, she glared up at the offending sheet.

'_Why are these lights so bright?'_ she thought to herself.

Shifting her body slightly, she added her other hand to grapple with the sheet. She pulled, trying to heave it onto the floor with her and to free it from the bonds keeping it from her. Instead, peculiarly, the sheet wrenched itself back out of her fingers. Still hazy from her night of gratuitous alcohol consumption, she failed to question the bedclothes' inexplicable jump from the inanimate state to a sentient one. She reached to yank on the irksome thing a third time. Again it remained steadfastly attached to the bed. This time, as it removed itself completely beyond the perimeter of her reach, it was accompanied by a groan.

A very familiar masculine groan.

Ignoring the reeling nauseated feeling that rolled through her head, she abruptly stood up and peered down at the bed. Her queasiness only increased as she took in the sight of the apparently shirtless auburn 21 year old man, lying sprawled across _her_ hotel room bed, wrapped in the very sheet she had been attempting to bundle herself with. It was possible the blanket thief lacked more clothing than just a shirt, but the blankets thankfully barred her poor hung-over eyes from this view. Smallish splotches of very feminine glitter sparkled on his bare torso and the side of his face not mashed into the pair of pillows that propped up his head. Smudges of lipstick, similar to the color she brought with her on this impromptu vacation, covered his face and neck.

Without warning her legs gave out on her and she sat down with a thump on the bed, shaking it and waking its occupant. Placing her head between her knees to stave off the overwhelming urge to vomit, caused more by the alcohol than anything else, she missed seeing the man lift his head off the pillow to peer sleepily at her.

"Morning sunshine," he muttered sarcastically. "Some night huh?"

Her head snapped up to glare at him, but the intensification of the battering in her skull that accompanied the movement kept her from retorting with anything more than a nonverbal reproach. The man threw her a lopsided grin, that had she been in a better condition, or even been able to remember the night in question, might have made her smile as well. She closed her eyes in frustration and pain.

"What the hell are you doing here, Nerdtron?" she quietly demanded when she felt she could safely form words without spilling the contents of her stomach onto the floor.

"You don't remember?" the shock was apparent in his voice.

"Obviously not. You gotta help me out. It's all a blur, last night."

Jimmy remained silent for a moment and Cindy glanced up at him. His face was twisted into an incredulous scowl. Micro-expressions of disgust and what came across to her as relief skittered across his face, reminding her of the science fair she almost won in the eighth grade. She had come in a close second to his project; her score only two points lower than his and for a minute Jimmy actually worried that he wouldn't win.

"Spare me your freakin' dirty looks. Now don't blame me. You're the one who got me drunk."

"I didn't know you were going to try and drink me under the table, and it's not my fault it only takes you a couple beers to get you tipsy."

"I can hold my liquor, thank you very much," Cindy glowered at him.

"That's what you told me around midnight after your third body shot. I'm pretty sure you were smashed by that time already," Jimmy rolled his eyes.

The fact that she couldn't remember even the first of said body shots fazed her for less than a millisecond before she spat, "Whatever! You're the one who challenged me to the drinking contest… What were your words again? Oh yeah that's right. _'Shut up and put your money where your mouth is.'_"

"Famous last words," he muttered under his breath while running a hand through his slightly mousse-stiffened hair, sending a shower of sparkles onto the pillow.

"What?" Cindy asked, straining to hear his reply over the roar of blood pounding in her ears.

"I said, I see you remember that much," he lied, chuckling at her.

"Only cause it's the last thing you said to me while I was sober," Cindy retorted.

"You really don't remember what happened, do you?" he inquired sincerely.

"Oh no, I do. I'm just dying to relive it again. Of course I don't remember last night, you idiot! Just tell me already!" she demanded.

"Ok, but you have to keep in mind I was drunk too…"

Angrily, Cindy pulled her legs on to the bed and crossed them. Elbows on her knees, she propped up her chin on her hands and closed her eyes to listen to his story.

"We picked you girls up around 8. Sheen and Carl had already helped themselves to some of the champagne in the limo's mini-fridge…."


	2. Of Ballads and Shakespeare

Disclaimer: I don't own Jimmy Neutron; never have, never will.

A.N. I got sick of waiting for my beta to read through this, so if there's any grammatical errors feel free to let me know!

* * *

_The Night Before…._

They had gone to Vegas to celebrate the end of their junior year of college, and the upcoming nuptials of their best friends, Sheen and Libby. It had been Sheen's "brilliant idea" to come to Vegas, no surprise there. In fact it was a direct result of his "brilliant" planning that all three boys were staying in one cheap motel room, one that still used actual keys instead of newer keycards. Cindy, not wanting to take a chance with her friend's sketchy organizational skills, took charge of the girls' accommodations, finding a hotel not far from the main strip, but inexpensive enough to not break the bank. She'd even managed to find herself and Libby separate hotel rooms for significantly cheaper than the boys' stay. Somehow, on a budget of next to nothing, Sheen managed to get them a limo to "ride in style" as he put it.

The two girls were in Libby's hotel room, putting the finishing touches on their appearance. Libby attempted to make Cindy seem older than her true age in the hopes that whatever bartenders happened to take her order throughout the night would be too busy checking her out to remember to ask for ID. As the youngest of the bunch, Cindy still couldn't legally consume alcohol during this mid-May adventure, but all vehemently agreed; no one wanted to leave her behind. _Someone's_ impatience had worn thin, not wanting to wait the necessary two weeks for Cindy's birthday. Jimmy, taking it upon himself as the genius of the gang, had crafted an authentic looking fake driver's license for her, but neither of the two young women wanted to chance Cindy getting carded and the forgery caught.

Cindy's pink sparkly cell phone buzzed once before launching into its custom ringtone. _'I am everything you want. I am everything you need. I am everything inside of you that you wish you could be.'_

"Hey Jimmy!" Cindy answered the phone excitedly without having to look at the caller ID to know who was calling and blatantly ignoring the looks Libby kept sending her as she listened to him. "We'll be right down."

Hanging up the phone, Cindy turned to relay Jimmy's message to her best friend. Unfortunately Libby cut her off before she could say anything asking, "Why is Jimmy's ringtone _'Everything You Want' _by Vertical Horizon?"

"I-I-I just like the song. Ok?" Cindy replied almost too quickly. "It's not like it has any meaning or anything."

Libby just rolled her eyes dubiously at Cindy, murmuring a low, "Mm-hmm."

"The boys are here by the way. They're waiting for us downstairs in the lobby."

Giving her one last significant eye-roll, Libby ran to the bathroom to retrieve her jacket. Cindy grabbed her purse and headed out the door to the elevator.

"Sometimes I don't understand why the two smartest people I know are so completely clueless," Libby muttered under her breath as she shut the door behind her.

Libby raced to beat the already closing elevator doors and just made it in time to slip in. She glanced at her best friend out of the corner of her eye. To an innocent bystander, Cindy appeared to be calm, cool, and collected, but Libby knew, from years of having to peel back the many layers of emotional facades, that Cindy was nervous.

"Calm down. Jimmy's gonna think you're smokin'. Would you stop worryin'?" she assured her blonde friend, and before Cindy could come up with a reply the elevator door opened, revealing the three young men.

Like the ladies, they had shed their everyday gear for a nicer set of clothes. Carl faced the exit, staring, leering really, at some girl in the driveway outside the hotel. Sheen paced back and forth in front of the entryway, impatiently alternating between running his hand through his hair and absently straightening his teal dress shirt. His excitement kept him from standing still. In stark contrast to his hyperactive best friend, an aura of cool confidence oozed from Jimmy's languid pose. Hands in the pockets of his dark washed denim jeans, he leaned his lanky body against a pillar at the center of the double doors. While his outward appearance came across as nonplussed, almost bordering on apathetic looking, internally he too was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown.

'_I'm going to tell her,'_ he thought. _'Tonight? No tomorrow? The plane ride home? Pukin' Pluto! What the hell am I going to do?'_

Jimmy had been thinking for months how to broach the subject of his intense feelings for his childhood friend and rival. There had been plenty of opportunities for his confession. It wasn't like they didn't share half of their classes together at the university or spend every other night in one another's dorm rooms studying, but the timing didn't seem to be right each time it came up. It'd been building to a boiling point though, and the trip to Vegas seemed the perfect time, in Jimmy's mind's eye, to tell Cindy he loved her.

When Sheen had asked him to give the girls a call to let them know that they were waiting in the lobby, his heart rate nearly doubled. He whipped out his cell phone and promptly called Cindy, not hesitating to press her number, Speed Dial #6. Though he'd never tell his two best friends this, that her number ranked above theirs on his speed dial list right under Goddard's private number and his parent's cell phones, lest he have to endure endless torturous comments from Sheen and Carl about making "booty calls."

Now he battled to keep himself calm, from blurting out his secret in the middle of the foyer to his two best friends. They probably already knew, but Jimmy still hadn't verbally confirmed their suspicions.

The bell on the elevator dinged, heralding the arrival of the rest of their party. As the doors opened, Jimmy pushed himself off the column and brushed invisible dirt off the sleeve of his white button down shirt. He quickly checked that the collar was still popped, not really paying attention to his actions while he stared at the beautiful young women walking towards him. So focused on staying calm, Sheen didn't hear the soft bell. His only cue to the entrance of their female counterparts was Jimmy's movements. Sheen stopped his frantic pacing and turned to the girls. Without missing a beat, he let out a loud wolf whistle that caused color to rise to his fiancée's cheeks.

Cindy shot him a dark look and then met Jimmy's gaze. Bland faced still, he held his index finger in the air and spun it, indicating that Cindy should turn around and give the guys the full effect of her outfit. Cindy rolled her eyes, shaking her head slightly, but acquiesced nonetheless. Stopping about halfway between the boys and the elevator she held out her arms, multicolored bangles jingling, in mock resignation and twirled, showing off the black thigh-length cowl necked sweater. Bright purple tights and a hot pink wife beater popped from underneath and the slim neon green belt wrapped snugly around her waist only accented its narrowness. When she finished her revolution, she glanced up to meet his eyes. The look on Jimmy's face was priceless. The indifferent expression vanished faster than a plate of his mother's cookies when Carl was over. His eyebrows jumped to the middle of his forehead, and his mouth curved into a smooth approving smirk.

"Well?" she demanded, forcefully, albeit a little self-consciously as well, as she strode towards the exit.

"I'm just shocked," Jimmy shrugged, "After all these years… You really are a girl."

He causally swung an arm around Cindy's shoulder; a testament to how close the two of them had grown over time. Cindy snorted, and teasingly pushed his arm off her shoulder. She remained close however; their sleeves still near enough to brush one another.

"Let me amend that. You look good tonight, Vortex," he told her, honestly.

"Wow, have you been drinking already?" Cindy quipped, stopping to smirk at the genius.

Jimmy's face fell into a small frown; slightly offended she would assume he only complimented her under the influence of something alcoholic. Seeing the change in his expression, Cindy rolled her eyes and latched onto his arm.

She tugged him out of the building saying, "Come on, Neutron. It's 80's ladies night, and it looks like I've got a long way to go if I'm going to catch up with you."

As if that was their cue to follow, a shell-shocked Sheen, Libby, and Carl tripped lightly behind them.

"I don't see why they don't…" Sheen started to say, holding open the door for Libby.

"Me neither," Libby interrupted, correctly interpreting his reaction. "I don't understand it, but something tells me tonight's gonna change that."

They stepped out into the light of the fading sun. It danced on the oversized sparkles of Libby's shirt, catching Sheen's eye and snapping him out of his moment's preoccupation with his star-crossed friends.

"Libbylicious, you look so… so…" he stopped and attempted to think of a way to best bestow praise upon his fiancée.

"Hot," Carl finished for him, scooting next to Jimmy and Cindy in the back of the limousine.

Sheen gave the redhead a dirty look and then admitted, "I was gonna say shiny."

Libby smiled and looked down at her top. Covered in quarter-sized sequins, the waning light refracted off the asymmetrical silver shirt, sending small circles onto Sheen's face.

"Thanks Sheen. I figured I had to find somethin' to wear that would keep your attention tonight," Libby smirked as she climbed into the limo.

"Hey!" he cried indignantly, "You know I've been getting better at paying attention. The med's my doctor's prescribed…."

"Chillax! I was just givin' you a hard time," she shook her head and patted the seat next to her. "I know you've been workin' at it. 'specially since you asked me to marry you. Now come on. We're gonna tear up the town!"

Sheen flashed her a sheepish smile and jumped into the limo with great gusto. Slamming the door shut with one hand, he pulled Libby closer to him, until she sat almost in his lap. She giggled and leaned her head back to look at him upside down.

"Mmm upside down kisses," Sheen murmured as he leaned closer to her face, "My favorite."

"Oh gross!" Cindy exclaimed in faux disgust, hiding her face in Jimmy's shoulder, "They're going at it again! Jimmy, make them stop!"

"There's a reason I flee to your place to study when the two of them are over," he sighed, playing along with her charade. "Do you know how many time's I've tried?"

"No, but I'm sure if I asked Goddard he'd be able to tell me," she said laughing.

"As if he would tell you anything!" he scoffed

"Yeah he would. All I have to do is bribe him with a few soda cans and he's putty in my hands. How do you think I managed to short sheet your bed and dye all your tidy-whities pink last week?" she replied in a singsong voice.

"That was you?!" He pretended to be incredulous. He knew it had been her to pull the prank. It was always her, but this time she left a note, _'Knew you were busy. Did your laundry for you. Love, Cindy.'_ At the bottom she drew a large winking smiley face and even dotted her "i's" with little hearts.

"I didn't know you knew any other Cindy's…"

The two continued to bicker lightheartedly until Carl, speaking up for the first time since making comment on Libby's outfit, held up an already opened bottle of champagne, "Drinks anyone?"

Four heads turned towards him. Jimmy, Sheen, and Libby nodded and thanked Carl as he passed out the beverage. Cindy, however, declined.

Mildly surprised, Jimmy turned to her, "You don't want one?"

"I don't like the taste," she shrugged her shoulders.

He cocked an eyebrow at her and asked in disbelief, "You don't like the taste of what? The alcohol? Holy Heisenberg Cin, why'd I even go to all the trouble of making you that fake ID?"

"Relax, moron. I just like my drinks with a fruitier flavor."

With this comment, Jimmy saw the perfect opportunity to enact the first part of his plan, the one to give Cindy (and all of his friends) a relaxing weekend away from home and the pressures of college life. He had consulted Libby on the sly to help him concoct the plan for finding ways to relax the over-worked and over-tired blonde. This school year had been particularly hard on all of them academically, but the increasingly difficult schoolwork took its toll Cindy's nerves, especially at the end of the year right before finals when he found her sitting in the library near tears as she worked herself into a state over the notes that Jimmy was three minutes late in delivering. A sleepless night later, both had taken the final and passed with no less than flying colors, but it didn't save Jimmy the thirty dollars in Starbucks she forced him to shell out to help them stay up as retribution for his tardiness.

If he was going to use this weekend in an attempt to alter the status of their relationship then, logic told him, his admission of fervid adoration would best go over if she were truly relaxed, and not the "relaxed" Cindy she showed most people. Jimmy learned by now how to read her moods, well at least the ones that could possibly lead to bodily harm, and could tell the difference between the two. Getting her to unwind would be easy with the events he had convinced Sheen to plan for the next couple nights (not to mention the alcohol the group was bound to consume during this time).

Then, he told himself, then he would tell Cindy he loved her. He knew he was taking a big gamble on all of this, but hey when in Vegas, right?

Going out tonight, for drinks and dancing, would be the first of many steps Jimmy had conveniently arranged, but if Cindy wasn't willing to do her unknowing part in the plan, Jimmy's thoughtful scheming would all be for naught. There had to be some way to get her to start to legitimately loosen up, and her words gave him the perfect window for success.

Knowing that Cindy would never willingly back down from a challenge, much less so a challenge issued by the once 'boy genius', he taunted, "Fruitier flavor? What's wrong, Vortex? You can't handle the stronger stuff?"

"Uh oh," Sheen leaned over and whispered to Carl, "I smell trouble."

Carl nodded and responded, "Them's fighin' words."

Cindy's mouth bent into a malicious grin that made Libby look up worriedly at Sheen and murmur, "This cannot be good."

"You're the one who showed up at my door at two o'clock in the morning singing ridiculous ballads and quoting Shakespeare on your 21st birthday after you'd been out with Carl and Sheen." Cindy replied coolly and the three friends exchanged dumbfounded glances. None of them had heard the story before, and all were eager to hear it in detail. "Oh and who had to _'escort'_ you back to your place? That's right, it was campus security."

"Cindy!" Jimmy hissed, completely mortified, "You said wouldn't tell anyone that!"

She tilted her head and rocked her shoulders back and forth in a mocking motion, smiling pertly. "You're the one who said I couldn't handle my liquor."

"But me being drunk has nothing to do with…"

"I was merely stating there's no use in the pot calling the kettle black. Anyway," she boasted with a casual toss of her hair, "I bet I could out drink you _any_ day of the week."

Fully recovered from her earlier jibe, Jimmy could barely contain his glee. She was playing right into his hands and she didn't even know it. He struggled to keep his voice from revealing anything that would make Cindy suspicious, "Really what would you bet then?"

Taken aback for a moment, she paused and then with an unruffled tone, that almost sounded like she too had been thinking along the same lines for a while, responded, "The usual; public humiliation in the form of the winner's choosing. I already have a notebook filled with ideas just waiting."

Jimmy scoffed again, "The usual? Again? That's fine, but how about we up the ante this time?"

"What do you have in mind? Cause this time I was thinking singing the Star-Spangled Banner in the middle of the Candy Bar in your underwear. You know, the ones I dyed pink," she threatened, making Jimmy chuckle.

"Yeah that's _so _going to happen," he retorted and then added, "Actually personal slave for a month sounds like a great addition to that."

Cindy's jaw dropped open at the same moment the limo glided to a stop outside the club. No one made a move to open the door and the driver, concerned, rolled down the window that separated him from the passengers. The whirring noise startled Libby out of her horrified awe. She quickly recovered and nudged Sheen. He then realized they had arrived at their destination. Sheen threw wide the door and drew himself from the car. Libby tweaked the sleeve of Carl's yellow polo shirt before she too exited the vehicle. He turned to her and slipped from the limo, leaving Jimmy and Cindy to settle their debate alone.

"What's wrong Vortex? Scared of losing?"

"You wish, Nerdtron!" she countered, cocking her head and scowling at him. "I just think a month is a little steep don't you?"

"Pffft! Shut up and put your money where your mouth is," he jeered, holding a hand out to seal the deal.

"Fine," she clasped his hand in her own, relishing the tingly feeling that always ran down her spine when her skin came into contact with Jimmy's. "But you're buying."

With a quick flirtatious wink, she leapt from the car to join her three friends.


	3. Four Horsemen

Disclaimer: Why do I need these again? Oh yeah! So I don't get sued by Nickelodeon or DNA productions for writing awesome-r than they did. I don't own Jimmy Neutron.

A.N. My beta's on her honeymoon, so if it sucks, deal with it!

* * *

Two drinks in, and Cindy already felt tipsy, not that she'd tell Jimmy, nor would he be able to guess. A minor in theater definitely came in handy sometimes. She had convinced him to start light, ordering a couple beers. Thankfully Libby's "dress her up so they don't card her" plan worked. The bartender, a short bald man with a repulsive mustache, delivered the beverages without batting an eye at the two.

"So?" Jimmy asked, smirking at her as he returned from the bar.

"So what?" Cindy shot back, glancing at the shots glasses he carried in his hand.

"So you ready to try something a little harder?"

She shrugged offhandedly, "Sure why not? What'd you bring this time?"

"Four Horsemen," Jimmy informed her, placing the two shots down onto the table.

"Jimmy…" Libby's voice held a warning. "Isn't that supposed to be…"

"Hey, Cindy said she could handle the tough stuff. I'm just calling her out on her bluff."

"It wasn't a bluff you jerk!"

Cindy snatched the shot and quickly downed it before Jimmy could make another comment. She choked on the strong liquid. Red faced, she made a mad grab for the glass of water in front of her. Jimmy snickered and when she glared at him, he raised an eyebrow. Expertly, he knocked back his shot, and took a swig of his beer, as though to rub it in her face. What she didn't see was Jimmy masterfully spit the noxious alcohol into the half empty bottle.

It continued this way for another 45 minutes. Jimmy and Cindy's friends soon lost interest in their competition, and moved on to other activities. Somehow Jimmy talked Cindy into doing body shots off of a couple random guys in the bar. Cindy used this opportunity to pick the two hottest guys in the building, who were more than eager to lend their necks to the attractive blonde, to try to make Jimmy jealous. It worked, though he wouldn't admit it.

"You up for another body shot?" Jimmy inquired, returning from the bar with yet another shot glass in hand.

The caramel colored liquid flashed different hues as the multicolored lights blinked in the background. She nodded eagerly. He sat down and scanned the crowd. Libby and Sheen were out on the dance floor. Libby was hunched over, laughing, as Sheen attempted to dance. The Ultra-Shock Dance Teacher 8000 must have worn off already.

Carl, off in a dark secluded corner, was making out with some brunette he picked up at the bar. Jimmy shook his head at him. When puberty hit Carl, it hit him with a titanium baseball bat of testosterone, _hard_, and the redhead learned long ago how to use his awkwardness to scam for woman. His conquest list surpassed that of Nick Dean in high school because all the girls fell for his seemingly unintentional charm. Who would have imagined that any woman in her right mind would fall for one of his many llama and allergy themed pick-up lines? Jimmy's personal favorite was: "Are you having an anaphylactic reaction? 'Cause you sure are swell!"

Turning back to Cindy, he waved a hand out at the rest of the club. "Alright, take your pick."

Cindy pretended to think for a moment, giving a small suspect giggle that should have alerted Jimmy to what she was about to do, but was drown out by the loud 80's rock song that played over the speakers.

"What about that one?" he pointed to an average looking guy sitting alone at the bar.

She shook her head and stood, making sure to grab the small twist of lime he brought with him. "I know exactly who."

Jimmy made a motion to stand, but Cindy's hand pushed him back down into his seat. Perplexed, he looked up at her eyes. She smiled flirtatiously and promptly straddled his lap. Shock and confusion turned delight then back to uncertainty. What was going on here? Before he had time to react, a hand placed the lime into his mouth. She wrapped both arms behind his head and leaned close to his ear.

"I've wanted to do this all night," she whispered just above music and then dropped her head to lick his neck. Cindy sprinkled salt on the spot, licked it off, and then knocked back the shot. Swallowing, she pulled his head towards hers to retrieve the slice of lime. Her lips lingered on his for significantly longer than they had with the other two guys. Slowly, she withdrew her face from Jimmy's. Smiling, she laid the slice on the table, and returned her mouth to his, kissing him deeply.

'_Gas planets! Does she know what she's doing to me?'_ he wondered.

As much as he would have liked to continue fooling around with the girl of his dreams, he knew it wasn't right to take advantage of her incapacitated condition. Gently he peeled her off, hoping that he wouldn't upset her. There was no telling what she was capable of in this state.

"Cindy, stop. You're drunk," he told her calmly, placing his hands on her shoulders to steady her.

"Nuh-uh! Am not! I can hold my liquor, thank you very much!" the words came out incredibly slurred.

"Cin…" he started to say, but got cut off when the song changed and Cindy suddenly jumped off of his lap.

She shouted, "I love this song! Come dance with me!" and tugged him towards the dance floor.

"Cindy, I don't dance," he protested fiercely, trying to wrench his hand from her grasp.

"Don't… don't be a baby!" she called over her shoulder.

Jimmy gave her an experienced exasperated scowl. He gave a last tug, hoping to free his now numb limb, but the blonde's strength won out. She hadn't earned her third-degree black belt three months ago for nothing. Cindy, misinterpreting his pulling, twirled around in what _could_ have been a graceful spin. Her body collided with his, causing both of them to stumble back. Spritely, she tittered and as he watched her enjoy herself, Jimmy couldn't help but dissolve in laughter as well.

In a shockingly uncoordinated display, only surpassed by their Mexican associate, Cindy began to dance. The only way to accurately describe the sight of the girl on the dance floor would be if a fish were given legs and arms, but not lungs or the ability to learn to coordinate itself before thrusting upon dry land. Forced into an unfamiliar, inhospitable environment the fish would flounder and thrash about. It goes without saying that the other club goers gave Cindy a wide berth. Jimmy watched, amused and entranced by her spastic movements. He smiled to himself and supposed he could have considered it endearing had she not at that moment whacked him in the face in her crazed dance.

Jimmy stepped back from her, nursing his wounded cheek. As though he had some sort of supernatural forewarning or preemptive thoughts, Jimmy contented himself to stand watch over Cindy as an unobtrusive guardian and he leaned against their table that was conveniently placed on the edge of the dance floor. Waiting in the wings, as if anticipating the genius's retreat, another man, Cindy's first body shot victim, approached the young woman. Jimmy silently fumed as Cindy turned to face him and began to dance in a very suggestive manner with him.

'_She's not yours, Jim,'_ he seethed.

'_But she could be,_' another part of him spoke up.

He took a few calming breaths to steady himself, and when that didn't work, he took a swig of his beer, forgetting that it was full of his unconsumed shots. He swallowed without really tasting the beverage and knocked back another drink, draining the bottle. Slowly the alcohol worked its way into his system, making it hard for him to control his emotions.

'_Stay calm Jimmy. It's just one dance. She's allowed to dance with whoever she wants,_' he told himself over and over again, but as the man's hands slid up Cindy's sides and reached her chest Jimmy felt his annoyance turn to blind rage. Inexplicably he found marching directly up to the young man, who couldn't have been much older than the young genius, but had at least three inches and twenty pounds on Jimmy. He grabbed the creep by the collar and slammed him against one of the metal columns that ringed the dance floor.

"Don't touch her!" Jimmy shouted.

"Hey man, she didn't say no," the man protested, holding up his hands.

"That doesn't mean you can take advantage of her," Jimmy's eyes constricted into a narrow deathly glare and he pulled his fist back to punch the reprobate. Before he could swing it, however, a pair of smooth hands clasped around his fist. Jimmy turned his head to see Cindy firmly attached to the hands. Her eyes were wide with fear.

"Jimmy! Stop! Stop! Stop!" she commanded him. He turned his body towards her, making sure to keep one hand on the man's shoulder, still pinning him to the pillar. "You're gonna get us kicked out."

"Cindy…" he began to try to defend his actions, but a sharp tap on his shoulder stopped him.

Jimmy's assault hadn't gone unnoticed by the club's bouncer. As if summoned into the altercation by Cindy's words, the bouncer miraculously appeared, saving the young man's nose from its inevitable collision course with Jimmy's fist.

"Is there a problem here sir?" the new man asked.

"No problem," Jimmy quickly dropped the first man and hastily brushed off his shirt.

"Really cause it sure looked like there was one," the bouncer folded his well-muscled arms across his chest. "Don't let it happen again. You're just lucky I'm in a good mood tonight, or you'd be out of here so quickly…" He let the threat hang in the air.

Jimmy nodded and mumbled a thank you to the bouncer's back as the man returned to his previous post. Jimmy turned back to Cindy and put his arm around her shoulder, guiding her back to their table.

"I love this place!" Cindy shouted over the din. "We have to come back here for my 21st birthda…… Oh crap!"

Jimmy whipped his head around, but as he suspected the guard had heard her loudmouth comment as well.

"What was that?!" he demanded, stomping back over to the pair.

"Uhhh…" they chorused together.

"Lemme see your ID," he held out his hand.

"My bag!" Cindy cried, pointing across the swarm of people. The man indicated that they should proceed and the three of them marched over to the table.

"Gas planets!" Jimmy swore under his breath while Cindy pulled the driver's license from her purse.

"When was your birthday?" asked the guard, scrutinizing her phony ID.

"Ummm… June 5th… ahhh 19… 19… I don't remember sir."

"Get out of here. Both of you," the bouncer barked, shaking his head and pocketing the false identification card.

"Come on, Cin."

Grabbing her purse, Jimmy pulled her towards the door. He quickly scanned the room hoping to see their friends to somehow signal that they were in trouble. By now unfortunately, the club had filled to maximum capacity and Sheen and Libby were nowhere in sight. Jimmy thought he caught a glimpse of a flash of red and yellow that could have been Carl through the throng of bodies on the floor, but the threatening glare from the bouncer stopped Jimmy from pursuing the lead further.

The two staggered out of the club and into the chilly Nevada air. Night was in full swing, and the two kids, intoxicated and alone in an unfamiliar city, were at a loss as to what they should do. Logic still partially in tact, Jimmy made the decision for them, and started down the street. Knowing that Cindy's hotel was probably the closer of the two, Jimmy headed in the general direction. Jimmy, still carrying Cindy's purse, intercepted Cindy when she stumbled and nearly fell into the bustling thoroughfare, catching her firmly around the waist with his left hand. He braced her as they walked, almost carrying her for a couple blocks. Stopping so he could catch his breath, the pair leaned against a rail overlooking the fountain at the Bellagio hotel, Jimmy's arm still fixed around her waist.

"Oooh! Look at the fountain," Cindy murmured and smiled so brightly up at him that he froze, mesmerized by her beauty. "It's so pretty."

"Breathtaking," he replied in a husky voice. She peered up at Jimmy from beneath her lashes. Blushing furiously, Cindy quickly looked back to the sight of the fountain, uncertain if Jimmy was referring to the same thing as her.

"Libby! " she declared after a moment. "She needs to see this. Gimme my phone. It's in my purse."

Jimmy handed her the purse. Cindy began rummaging around, searching for her cell phone, which was buried deep in the recesses of the bag underneath the extra makeup and cash she had packed as well as Jimmy's wallet and motel key. Jimmy had asked Cindy earlier in the night if she wouldn't mind holding on to a few of his things. Knowing the notoriousness of Las Vegas' pick pocketing community, he assumed that his stuff would most likely be safer in her sealed purse rather than the pocket of his jeans.

Just as she located the errant communication device, a strand of hair came loose from her once neat side-ponytail. Maybe it was the way the lights of the waterworks show lit up her face or maybe it was the alcohol making him move, but Jimmy couldn't resist reaching out to brush it from her face. With his right thumb and index finger, he tilted her chin up to look him in the eye. The other hand gently tucked it behind her ear and then slowly traced a path down her jaw line. She grinned shyly at him, face flushing the brightest shade of crimson. The earth came to a stand still, the lights of the strip faded, the cacophony of the crowds melted away like a radio muffled through walls, as the two stared into each other's eyes.

"Uh… you… ah… had some hair…" Jimmy muttered almost unintelligibly, breaking the standstill.

"Oh…" Disappointment clouded her face for a moment. "What was I doing again?" she squinched one eye up at him.

"Looking for your phone so you could call Libby," he answered and turned back to the fountain to clear his head.

"Oh yeah," she nodded her head.

Cell phone in hand, she turned her attention back to her purse and started riffling through it. A few minutes search yielded no luck. Cindy soon, earlier than normal, became frustrated. Frantically she began pulling things from the bag, tossing them lightly over her shoulder. Each article was carefully examined and each time, when it was found to not be the missing cell phone, the article was immediately discarded. With almost deliberate accuracy, every item landed in the fountain with a distinctive plop. Into the fountain went a set of vaguely important looking keys, her forty-dollar lipstick, and a black leather wallet that had someone's childhood atom trademark embossed onto it. While Jimmy remained oblivious as he brooded staring off into space, Cindy nearly emptied her purse of its contents. It wasn't until her severe irritation gave way to a low string of curses that shocked Jimmy in their forcefulness and vulgarity that he took stock of what was going on next to him.

"What are you doing!?" he asked, staring down in horror as she chucked yet another item, his cell phone this time, into what would become it's watery grave.

"Looking for my frickin' phone," she growled without looking up.

"Cindy!" he shouted, his voice clearly panicked.

"Huh?" she mumbled, finally glancing up at him.

"It's in your other hand, and you just threw my cell into the fountain."

"Oh," she muttered chagrined.

"What else did you throw in there!?" he demanded.

"Um... Uh…" she glanced over her shoulder to the fountain. "I think your wallet's in there," she giggled, "Aww an' my lipstick. I just bought that. Ooooh, an' a set a keys, but they aren't mine."

"Leapin' Leptons! Cindy, that's my motel key! How the hell am I supposed to get into my room now?"

"It'sss fine, Jimmy," she put on arm on his shoulder and leaned into him. "You can stay with me. My bed's huuuge, an' s'not like we haven't slept together before."

Jimmy choked, a blush rising steadily to his cheeks at her comment. It took Cindy a few minutes to realize why. When she did, her face rivaled his in the intensity of her blush.

"You silly… You know what I mean," she said, giggling and shaking her head.

"I know," he chuckled.

The two had indeed "slept together" as she put it several times before. Often it was during one of their late night study sessions. The pair would become so exhausted that eventually one or both of them would fall asleep. Usually it was Cindy who caved first. Jimmy never had the heart or the energy to wake her and send her home. It gave him great solace and a cause for hope that she felt comfortable enough to drop her guard around him, at least enough that she trusted him enough to fall asleep with him there.

While she slumbered, most times, she subconsciously snuggled close to him. To have Cindy in his arms, without a doubt, was Jimmy's favorite way to wake in the morning, even if he had to deal with a sore neck and an irascibly chagrined Cindy. It was Cindy's favorite way to start the day as well, but until she knew for sure Jimmy's true feelings for her, she played her part well: Pretending to sleep until he woke first, so she could stay next to him as long as possible. Then feigning outrage and embarrassment when he finally did "wake" her, all the while loving every bit of it. Only when she was safely back in her dorm room, or he in his, whichever the case may be in that instance, would she allow herself a quick giddy giggle.

"Come on genius," she said playfully smacking him on the shoulder. "It's still like way early… or was… that late? Whatever. Anyway, we're in Vegas! Let's go have some fun!"


	4. Information Overload

Disclaimer: This is a funny disclaimer that makes you laugh and informs you in a creative way that I do not own Jimmy Neutron.

* * *

"Wait…" Cindy interrupted Jimmy's story, "I lost my fake ID, right? But you lost the motel key…"

"Good, you remember something, but actually you threw my motel key into the fountain at the Bellagio, along with my cell phone and half the contents of your purse. I still can't fathom as to why you did it though."

"It's your fault for asking me to hold onto your stuff," she smirked.

Cindy chuckled, and then held her head. Groaning as the motion of her laughter caused her head to hurt again. Jimmy's expression shifted from mildly annoyed to concern seeing the pain flash in her eyes.

"Hey," he said softly, "You ok?"

Once again the splitting headache kept her from coming up with a clever retaliation. Instead she shook her head slowly, trying to keep her brain from rattling around further. Her migraine didn't restrain her brief scathing scowl however. Cindy placed her fingertips to her temples and began massaging them, hoping to bring some relief to her thunderous head. She inhaled and exhaled loudly and closed her eyes.

"I think I have something for that," Jimmy informed her, leaning over the side of the bed to reach for his pants.

He pulled out a blue package from one of the pockets and threw back the sheet. He stood; unveiling the red boxers he spent the night in. Jimmy crossed the room, picked up a cup by the sink, and filled it with water. Tearing open the packet, he dropped two large white tablets into the cup. They fizzed upon contacting the water and quickly sank to the bottom of the glass, creating an opaque bubbling concoction. Satisfied that the tablets had completely dissolved into the tap water, Jimmy returned to Cindy's side. Nudging her hand with the cold glass, he waited patiently for her to look at him. He smiled weakly when she glanced at the cup.

"Great. Another Neutron hangover cure?" she groaned. "What's this one gonna do to me, Jimmy? Turn me orange? Give me a beard?"

"Relax, it's only Alka-Seltzer. I bought it on the way in at the hotel's gift shop last night. I figured you'd be needing it come morning."

"Oh," she commented lamely. "That was thoughtful of you."

Taking the cup from his hand, she finally grasped what he was wearing. She had known that he wasn't wearing a shirt; that he hadn't been wearing one since they started this awkward conversation, but the realization finally seemed to dawn on her, seeing him standing there in only his underwear. Cindy's eyes unabashedly raked up and down his body, taking in and marveling over the flat planes of his chest and abs; the five o'clock shadow that grew in over night; and again the smudges of lipstick that she now knew for sure were hers.

'_When did Nerdtron get those muscles?_' she wondered. _'Working in the lab?'_

"You know, Cin, a hangover cure only works if you drink it," Jimmy snickered, knowing he caught her checking him out.

Averting her gaze, she blushed and pressed the cup to her lips, taking a long draught to try to finish it in one gulp. The light glinted off something on her left hand then and caught her eye. Cindy nearly dropped the cup when she realized a familiar ring lay on the fourth finger of her left hand. How she missed seeing it up until this point was beyond her. She sputtered and almost spit the liquid from her mouth.

Choking on the last of her remedy, she cried, "Why… why am I… Why am I wearing your… class ring?"

Jimmy's face exploded in scarlet embarrassment as he blushed. While he avoided meeting her eyes, he sank back down on the other side of the bed, praying that she'd hear him out before she freaked.

Cindy coughed again and then asked fearfully, "Did… did we… get…" but the word '_married'_ refused to issue forth from her lips.

"Did we get hitched last night?" he completed her thought.

She nodded, slowly, so as to not jar her aching head. There was a long pause in which Cindy carefully considered murdering the famous genius, but the idea of spending the rest of her life behind bars deterred her.

"I may as well tell you. I'm dead anyway," Jimmy sighed, resigned. "After we got kicked out of the club and you tossed my phone and keys in the fountain…"

* * *

Giggling, Cindy stumbled down the sidewalk, headed for who knows where. Jimmy grumbled under his breath and chased after her, long legs carrying him towards her faster than her drunken weaving could take her.

"Cindy!" he called, attempting to get her attention.

She spun around and promptly lost her balance, falling flat on her backside. She laughed harder now, beaming up at him as he closed in on her.

"Whoops," she tittered.

Jimmy hauled her to her feet and sighed. "Cin." He shook his head. "Do you even know where you're going?"

"Did you see that bouncer?" she asked, completely unaware he had asked a question. "Ho boy, Jimmy was he hot. Hey he kinda looked like Nick Dean. Ya 'member him Jim? Do ya? Super hottie with a naughty body. Yeah, that guy was hot."

Jimmy placed his forehead in one hand for a second and muttered a low oath. "Why don't you just marry Nick Dean already?"

"Nuh uh," Cindy shook her head vigorously, making herself even dizzier than before. "He was a jerk. A… How didja put it? A heartless knuckle… knuckle dragon… no dragging knave." She giggled again, remembering something else. "I heard he works at a gas station now. He's prolly Quinlin's baby-daddy too."

Jimmy was a little shocked to hear Cindy's verbal assault on the guy he had always been slightly envious of in high school, but if Jimmy thought he was startled at Cindy's mini-tirade about Nick, the next words to come out of her mouth were a brain defibrillation.

"You know who I wanna marry though?" asked Cindy, edging herself closer to Jimmy in what would have been an obviously sexual manner that should have sent off warning signals in Jimmy's head if he too hadn't consumed so much of the intoxicating liquid. She didn't wait for an answer though. Instead she reached with one finger and placed it on his lips and said, "You."

"You don't mean that," he shook his head, flabbergasted.

"I do! Since we were… Ummm… 'leven… I'm in love with ya. I always wanted to tell ya… and now I did. I love you."

"I love you too," Jimmy responded and automatically leaned down to kiss her, as if it was the most natural thing for the two of them to declare their love for each other and make out on the side of the road in an unfamiliar city.

The kiss was short and sweet and tasted of Cindy's new lip-gloss, slightly tinged with the hint of tequila. Cindy gave a half giggle as the two of them separated and then stopped. Her eyes grew wide, as though what was left of her functional brain had realized what they just said. Jimmy's face mirrored hers.

"Wait!" she yelped. "You don't really mean that!"

"No I do! I do!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah then prove it…" she challenged, poking him in the chest with a stiff finger.

"How?"

"Marry me!"

"Cin! I can't," he protested, knowing that if he went through with her cockamamie dare she wouldn't let him live without dire consequences.

"See you don't love me!" she cried, turning her back on him and throwing her hands in the air. "You're lying!"

"No! I do love you. It's just that we… I… you… we… can't!"

"Who says? We're in Vegas. We're both adults an' no one can tell me what to do." She spun, planted a fist on one hip, and repetitively jabbed at him with her index finger with the opposite hand. "Remember what you told me? Shut up. And put your money, where your mouth is."

She placed so much force into the final blow that Jimmy staggered back. "But Cin, I didn't mean it like that."

"Sure ya did Jim," she waved a hand in the air. "Let's go! I know where we can find a chapel!"

"How?"

"Lib-Libby-Libs and I looked it up, case she and Sheeny-boy decided to get hitched ahead of schedule. There should be a twenty-three, no twenty-two… How many hours are in a day again?" Jimmy opened his mouth to answer, but giggling again, Cindy cut him off. "Never mind, there's one open all day like… um… ten thousand blocks that way!"

She waved her open palm toward one end of the road before them.

"In that case," he chuckled at her over exaggeration. "We should probably get a cab."

"No. No, no, no. We can walk," she snaked an arm around his waist, leaning into his body, until he supported nearly all her weight once more.

"Cin, we can't," Jimmy asserted again.

""You're so cute when you argue like that. Let's walk, Mister Brainiac," she nudged him down the sidewalk

"Cin, we need a taxi 'cause you're drunk…" he patted his pockets in a mocking gesture. "And I'm broke."

His arguments and demands for a cab went unheeded until she stumbled yet again over the smooth walkway. She nodded, finally conceding.

"Hey Jimmy!" Cindy called, a little too loudly.

"Yeah?" he glanced down at her.

"You're right… You should never drink and derive,"

"Oh wondrous day! Present Vortex with liquor and she becomes a comedian. Should have known that deep down you had a sense of humor in there." He tapped her head lightly with his index finger and the two giggled like mad.

Jimmy hailed a cab and helped the poor girl inside, shielding her head with his hand and taking in a series of bruises across his knuckles when it connected with the top of the door.

* * *

Soon they arrived at the chapel. Cindy's slurred directions to the cab driver made it plainly obvious that he made this journey quite often. Bright neon lights proudly announced the building as one of the "oldest in Vegas", though the owners were loath to admit, it was only the cement foundation that actually earned the title. The quaint exterior seemed to be ripped from the stereotypical 50's concept of a chapel. A white picket fence even surrounded the fake dollar store floral arrangements that were designed to look like flowerbeds. The cabbie, who had up until this time remained silent, turned and read them their fare. Jimmy reached into his empty pocket to retrieve his wallet. He growled when he found nothing but pocket lint and remembered that Cindy threw it into the fountain.

"Cin, please tell me you have some cash," he demanded of her.

"Course," she giggled and reached into her shirt.

Jimmy ogled her as she pulled out a wad of bills from her bra, "Wha…"

"Girl's gotta keep her cash somewhere," she giggled.

He blinked several times and then shifted in his seat to exit the vehicle. Emerging from the car, Cindy linked her arm through his and skipped clumsily towards the door, humming something that sounded strikingly similar to _"We're Off To See The Wizard"_. As the two entered the building somehow the garish florescent lights of the lobby reawakened Jimmy's reservations.

"Cindy we shouldn't be doing this," he protested, stopping just inside the doorway.

Jimmy disentangled himself from Cindy's grasp and held her arms firmly down at her sides so that she wouldn't attempt to assault Jimmy again. Cindy shook his hands from her wrists and stepped closer. The tips of her black heels smashed down onto his left foot and he winced.

"Jim-Jimmy-James-Nerdtron, just… just... Shhhhh! Shh!" she muttered. Waving a hand in the air, she smacked her palm into the side of his face gently and dragged it down to his chest. He flinched the first time, but as the series continued, he just patiently waited for whatever she was going to say next. "Shud up… and put… your money where your mouse…" giggle "mouth is."

"Cindy, I'm out of money, remember?"

"No, no," she shook her head and smiled at him like he just told her a funny joke. "No you're not. You're a genie… genius… 'member? You gots lots a money. Ya know out there." She waved a hand to indicate the world at large. "From inventin' stuff that blows up."

"I don't though," he tried to argue with the intoxicated blonde. "I spent all my cash on drinks."

"Oh yeah. I could really use another drink right now," she spun around the foyer of the chapel, arms spread wide. "Where's a waiter when you need one?"

"We're not in the club anymore," Jimmy reminded her.

"Oooooooh…" she said, and after a minutes pause she looked at him with big doe eyes. "Where are we?"

"We're at the chapel," Jimmy's eyes widened, slightly skeptically, as he explained their location. "Do you remember?"

"Really!?" she asked excitedly. "Who's getting married?"

"Well you wanted it to be you and me, but now I don't…"

"Aww Jimmy. I thought you'd never ask," she brushed up against his side.

"I didn't. You're the one who insisted."

She nodded at his statement and giggled, "K... What are we waiting for?"

"Someone dressed up like Elvis," he jested, mocking the clichéd Vegas tradition, but his sarcasm was apparently lost on Cindy.

"Really?" she gasped.

Just then a blonde approached the two. Hair in a tight bun and dressed primly in a tailored suit, she appeared more apt to hand them a packet of airplane peanuts than she cohered to the Vegas norm. She greeted them with a bright smile and introduced herself. Her name was quickly forgotten however when Cindy piped up again asking Jimmy if Elvis could really be their officiant.

"You know, sir, we do have the Hunk-a Hunk-a Burning Love Package if you and your lovely..." she left a gap in which Cindy quickly filled.

"Nemesis!" she cried, throwing her hands up in the air.

Jimmy cringed and rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he waited for the receptionist's reaction. However the woman merely smiled at the two and winked coyly at Cindy. She proceeded to outline the package's contents, including a certified Elvis impersonator. Cindy turned to Jimmy and began tugging on his arm, until Jimmy wondered if it were quite possible for her to completely dismember him in her excitement.

"Jimmy we have to!" Cindy exclaimed. "Elvis!!"

"I'm still not sure we should be…"

"No. We are. We're getting married tonight. That's the one I want. Jimmy, come on! Come on, Jimmy! Come on! I love you." She looked at him as though her last sentence would quickly solve any hesitation left in Jimmy's mind. "I _loooove_ you. I love _yoooou_. I. Love. You."

Jimmy, drunk on the physical and verbal expressions of her affection, laced with the heady feeling of relief from the positive outcome of his divulgence, (and the alcohol,) discovered himself agreeing and soon stood at an alter, staring at Cindy as she stumbled down the aisle. A glazed smile was plastered across her face. Someone had found the girl a clip-on veil, which had already been knocked askew. Tripping up the last step, she wrapped an arm around Jimmy's neck and pulled him down until he stooped next to her. The necessity of the receptionist's restrictive hairstyle then became apparent, when the two young adults turned to face the officiant. There, before them, stood the receptionist in a full white leisure suit, complete with a bedazzled cape fastened about her neck. Businesslike manner cast aside with her attire, the woman curled her lip and in a low drawl began the ceremony. Hastily garbled vows and another passionate, albeit roaringly drunk kiss later, the two found themselves man and wife.


End file.
